"--I am gone, Sir
And, anon, Sir,
I'll be with you again."
Clown in Twelfth Night.
Although it is contrary to the apparent evidence of our senses, there is
no truth more certain than that the course of most gales of wind comes
from the leeward. The effects of a tempest shall be felt, for hours, at a
point that is seemingly near its termination, before they are witnessed at
another, that appears to be nearer its source. Experience has also shown
that a storm is more destructive, at or near its place of actual
commencement, than at that whence it may seem to come. The easterly gales
that so often visit the coasts of the republic, commit their ravages in
the bays of Pennsylvania and Virginia, or along the sounds of the
Carolinas, hours before their existence is known in the states further
east; and the same wind, which is a tempest at Hatteras, becomes softened
to a breeze, near the Penobscot. There is, however, little mystery in this
apparent phenomenon. The vacuum which has been created in the air, and
which is the origin of all winds, must be filled first from the nearest
stores of the atmosphere; and as each region contributes to produce the
equilibrium, it must, in return, receive other supplies from those which
lie beyond. Were a given quantity of water to be suddenly abstracted from
the sea, the empty space would be replenished by a torrent from the
nearest surrounding fluid, whose level would be restored, in succession,
by supplies that were less and less violently contributed. Were the
abstraction made on a shoal, or near the land, the flow would be greatest
from that quarter where the fluid had the greatest force, and with it
would consequently come the current.
But while there is so close an affinity between the two fluids, the
workings of the viewless winds are, in their nature, much less subject to
the powers of human comprehension than those of the sister element. The
latter are frequently subject to the direct and manifest influence of the
former, while the effects produced by the ocean on the air are hid from
our knowledge by the subtle character of the agency. Vague and erratic
currents, it is true, are met in the waters of the ocean; but their origin
is easily referred to the action of the winds, while we often remain in
uncertainty as to the immediate causes which give birth to the breezes
themselves. Thus the mariner, even while the victim of the irresistible
waves, studies the heavens as the known source from whence the danger
comes; and while he struggles fearfully, amid the strife of the elements,
to preserve the balance of the delicate and fearful machine he governs, he
well knows that the one which presents the most visible, and to a landsman
much the most formidable object of apprehension, is but the instrument of
the unseen and powerful agent that heaps the water on his path.
It is in consequence of this difference in power, and of the mystery that
envelops the workings of the atmosphere, that, in all ages, seamen have
been the subjects of superstition, in respect to the winds. There is
always more or less of the dependency of ignorance, in the manner with
which they have regarded the changes of that fickle element. Even the
mariners of our own times are not exempt from this weakness. The
thoughtless ship-boy is reproved if his whistle be heard in the howling of
the gale, and the officer sometimes betrays a feeling of uneasiness, if at
such a moment he should witness any violation of the received opinions of
his profession. He finds himself in the situation of one whose ears have
drunk in legends of supernatural appearances, which a better instruction
has taught him to condemn, and who when placed in situations to awaken
their recollection, finds the necessity of drawing upon his reason to
quiet emotions that he might hesitate to acknowledge.
When Trysail directed the attention of his young commander to the heavens,
however, it was more with the intelligence of an experienced mariner, than
with any of the sensations to which allusion has just been made. A cloud
had suddenly appeared on the water, and long ragged portions of the vapor
were pointing from it, in a manner to give it what seamen term a windy
appearance.
"We shall have more than we want, with this canvas!" said the master,
after both he and his commander had studied the appearance of the mist,
for a sufficient time. "That fellow is a mortal enemy of lofty sails; he
likes to see nothing but naked sticks, up in his neighbourhood!"
"I should think his appearance will force the brigantine to shorten sail;"
returned the Captain. "We will hold-on to the last, while he must begin to
take in soon, or the squall will come upon him too fast for a light-handed
vessel."
"'Tis a cruiser's advantage! And yet the rogue shows no signs of lowering
a single cloth!"
"We will look to our own spars;" said Ludlow, turning to the lieutenant of
the watch. "Call the people up, Sir, and see all ready, for yonder cloud."
The order was succeeded by the customary hoarse summons of the boatswain,
who prefaced the effort of his lungs by a long, shrill winding of his
call, above the hatchways of the ship. The cry of "all hands shorten sail,
ahoy!" soon brought the crew from the depths of the vessel to her upper
deck. Each trained seaman silently took his station; and after the ropes
were cleared, and the few necessary preparations made, all stood in
attentive silence, awaiting the sounds that might next proceed from the
trumpet, which the first-lieutenant had now assumed in person.
The superiority of sailing, which a ship fitted for war possesses over one
employed in commerce, proceeds from a variety of causes. The first is in
the construction of the hull, which in the one is as justly fitted, as the
art of naval architecture will allow, to the double purposes of speed and
buoyancy; while in the other, the desire of gain induces great sacrifices
of these important objects, in order that the vessel may be burthensome.
Next comes the difference in the rig, which is not only more square, but
more lofty, in a ship of war than in a trader; because the greater force
of the crew of the former enables them to manage both spars and sails that
are far heavier than any ever used in the latter. Then comes the greater
ability of the cruiser to make and shorten sail, since a ship manned by
one or two hundred men may safely profit by the breeze to the last moment,
while one manned by a dozen often loses hours of a favorable wind, from
the weakness of her crew. This explanation will enable the otherwise
uninitiated reader to understand the reason why Ludlow had hoped the
coming squall would aid his designs on the chase.
To express ourselves in nautical language, 'the Coquette held on to the
last.' Ragged streaks of vapor were whirling about in the air, within a
fearful proximity to the lofty and light sails, and the foam on the water
had got so near the ship, as already to efface her wake; when Ludlow, who
had watched the progress of the cloud with singular coolness, made a sign
to his subordinate that the proper instant had arrived.
"In, of all!" shouted through the trumpet, was the only command necessary;
for officers and crew were well instructed in their duty.
The words had no sooner quitted the lips of the lieutenant, than the
steady roar of the sea was drowned in the flapping of canvas. Tacks,
sheets, and halyards, went together; and, in less than a minute, the
cruiser showed naked spars and whistling ropes, where so lately had been
seen a cloud of snow-white cloth. All her steering-sails came in together,
and the lofty canvas was furled to her top-sails. The latter still stood,
and the vessel received the weight of the little tempest on their broad
surfaces. The gallant ship stood the shock nobly; but, as the wind came
over the taffrail, its force had far less influence on the hull, than on
the other occasion already described. The danger, now, was only for her
spars; and these were saved by the watchful, though bold, vigilance of her
captain.
Ludlow was no sooner certain that the cruiser felt the force of the wind,
and to gain this assurance needed but a few moments, than he turned his
eager look on the brigantine. To the surprise of all who witnessed her
temerity, the Water-Witch still showed all her light sails. Swiftly as the
ship was now driven through the water, its velocity was greatly
outstripped by that of the wind. The signs of the passing squall were
already visible on the sea, for half the distance between the two vessels;
and still the chase showed no consciousness of its approach. Her commander
had evidently studied its effects on the Coquette; and he awaited the
shock, with the coolness of one accustomed to depend on his own resources,
and able to estimate the force with which he had to contend.
"If he hold-on a minute longer, he will get more than he can bear, and
away will go all his kites, like smoke from the muzzle of a gun!" muttered
Trysail. "Ah! there come down his studding-sails--ha! settle away the
mainsail--in royal, and top-gallant sail, with top-sail on the cap!--The
rascals are nimble as pickpockets in a crowd!"
The honest master has sufficiently described the precautions taken on
board of the brigantine. Nothing was furled; but as every thing was hauled
up, or lowered, the squall had little to waste its fury on. The diminished
surfaces of the sails protected the spars, while the canvas was saved by
the aid of cordage. After a few moments of pause, half-a-dozen men were
seen busied in more effectually securing the few upper and lighter sails.
But though the boldness with which the 'Skimmer of the Seas' carried sail
to the last, was justified by the result, still the effects of the
increased wind and rising waves on the progress of the two vessels, grew
more sensible. While the little and low brigantine began to labor and
roll, the Coquette rode the element with buoyancy, and consequently with
less resistance from the water. Twenty minutes, during which the force of
the wind was but little lessened, brought the cruiser so near the chase,
as to enable her crew to distinguish most of the smaller objects that were
visible above her ridge-ropes.
"Blow winds, and crack your cheeks!" said Ludlow, in an under tone, the
excitement of the chase growing with the hopes of success. "I ask but one
half-hour, and then shift at your pleasure!"
"Blow, good devil, and you shall have the cook!" muttered Trysail, quoting
a very different author. "Another glass will bring us within hail."
"The squall is leaving us!" interrupted the captain. "Pack on the ship,
again, Mr. Luff, from her trucks to her ridge-ropes!"
The whistle of the boatswain was again heard at the hatchways, and the
hoarse summons of 'all hands make sail, ahoy!' once more called the people
to their stations. The sails were set, with a rapidity which nearly
equalled the speed with which they had been taken in; and the violence of
the breeze was scarcely off the ship, before its complicated volumes of
canvas were spread, to catch what remained. On the other hand, the chase,
even more hardy than the cruiser, did not wait for the end of the squall;
but, profiting by the notice given by the latter, the 'Skimmer of the
Seas' began to sway his yards aloft, while the sea was still white with
foam.
"The quick-sighted rogue knows we are done with it," said Trysail; "and he
is getting ready for his own turn. We gain but little of him,
notwithstanding our muster of hands."
The fact was too true to be denied, for the brigand tine was again under
all her canvas, before the ship had sensibly profited by her superior
physical force. It was at this moment, when, perhaps, in consequence of
the swell on the water, the Coquette might have possessed some small
advantage, that the wind suddenly failed. The squall had been its expiring
effort; and, within an hour after the two vessels had again made sail, the
canvas was flapping against the masts, in a manner to throw back, in
eddies, a force as great as that it received. The sea fell fast, and ere
the end of the last or forenoon watch, the surface of the ocean was
agitated only by those long undulating swells, that seldom leave it
entirely without motion. For some little time, there were fickle currents
of air playing in various directions about the ship, but always in
sufficient force to urge her slowly through the water; and then, when the
equilibrium of the element seemed established, there was a total calm.
During the half-hour of the baffling winds, the brigantine had been a
gainer, though not enough to carry her entirely beyond the reach of the
cruiser's guns.
"Haul up the courses!" said Ludlow, when the fast breath of wind had been
felt on the ship, and quitting the gun where he had long stood, watching
the movements of the chase. "Get the boats into the water, Mr. Luff, and
arm their crews."
The young commander issued this order, which needed no interpreter to
explain its object, firmly, but in sadness. His face was thoughtful, and
his whole air was that of a man who yielded to an imperative but an
unpleasant duty. When he had spoken, he signed to the attentive Alderman
and his friend to follow, and entered his cabin.
"There is no alternative," continued Ludlow, as he laid the glass, which
so often that morning had been at his eye, on the table, and threw himself
into a chair. "This rover must be seized at every hazard, and here is a
favorable occasion to carry him by boarding. Twenty minutes will bring us
to his side, and five more will put us in possession; but--"
"You think the Skimmer is not a man to receive such visiters with an old
woman's welcome;" pithily observed Myndert.
"I much mistake the man, if he yield so beautiful a vessel, peacefully.
Duty is imperative on a seaman, Alderman Van Beverout; and, much as I
lament the circumstance, it must be obeyed."
"I understand you, Sir. Captain Ludlow has two mistresses, Queen Anne and
the daughter of old Etienne de Barbérie. He fears both. When the debts
exceed the means of payment, it would seem wise to offer to compound; and,
in this case, Her Majesty and my niece may be said to stand in the case of
creditors."
"You mistake my meaning, Sir;" said Ludlow proudly. "There can be no
composition between a faithful officer and his duty, nor do I acknowledge
more than one mistress in my ship--but seamen are little to be trusted in
the moment of success, and with their passions awakened by
resistance.--Alderman Van Beverout, will you accompany the party and serve
as mediator?"
"Pikes and hand-grenades! Am I a fit subject for mounting the sides of a
smuggler, with a broadsword between my teeth! If you will put me into the
smallest and most peaceable of your boats, with a crew of two boys, that I
can control with the authority of a magistrate, and covenant to remain
here with your three top-sails aback, having always a flag of truce at
each mast, I will bear the olive-branch to the brigantine, but not a word
of menace. If report speaks true, your 'Skimmer of the Seas' is no lover
of threats, and Heaven forbid that I should do violence to any man's
habits! I will go forth as your turtle-dove, Captain Ludlow; but not one
foot will I proceed as your Goliath."
"And you equally refuse endeavoring to avert hostilities?" continued
Ludlow, turning his look on the Patroon of Kinderhook.
"I am the Queen's subject, and ready to aid in supporting the laws;"
quietly returned Oloff Van Staats.
"Patroon!" exclaimed his watchful friend; "you know not what you say! If
there were question of an inroad of Mohawks, or an invasion from the
Canadas, the case would differ; but this is only a trifling difference,
concerning a small balance in the revenue duties, which had better be left
to your tide-waiter, and the other wild-cats of the law. If Parliament
will put temptation before our eyes, let the sin light on their own heads.
Human nature is weak, and the vanities of our system are so many
inducements to overlook unreasonable regulations. I say, therefore, it is
better to remain in peace, on board this ship, where our characters will
be as safe as our bones, and trust to Providence for what will happen."
"I am the Queen's subject, and ready to uphold her dignity;" repeated
Oloff, firmly.
"I will trust you, Sir;" said Ludlow, taking his rival by the arm, and
leading him into his own state-room.
The conference was soon ended, and a midshipman shortly after reported
that the boats were ready for service. The master was next summoned to the
cabin and admitted to the private apartment of his commander. Ludlow then
proceeded to the deck, where he made the final dispositions for the
attack. The ship was left in charge of Mr. Luff, with an injunction to
profit by any breeze that might offer, to draw as near as possible to the
chase. Trysail was placed in the launch, at the head of a strong party of
boarders. Van Staats of Kinderhook was provided with the yawl, manned only
by its customary crew; while Ludlow entered his own barge, which contained
its usual complement, though the arms that lay in the stern-sheets
sufficiently showed that they were prepared for service.
The launch, being the soonest ready, and of much the heaviest movement,
was the first to quit the side of the Coquette. The master steered
directly for the becalmed and motionless brigantine. Ludlow took a more
circuitous course, apparently with an intention of causing such a
diversion as might distract the attention of the crew of the smuggler, and
with the view of reaching the point of attack at the same moment with the
boat that contained his principal force. The yawl also inclined from the
straight line steering as much on one side as the barge diverged on the
other. In this manner the men pulled in silence for some twenty
minutes,--the motion of the larger boat, which was heavily charged, being
slow and difficult. At the end of this period, a signal was made from the
barge, when all the men ceased rowing and prepared themselves for the
struggle. The launch was within pistol-shot of the brigantine, and
directly on her beam; the yawl had gained her head where Van Staats of
Kinderhook was studying the malign expression of the image, with an
interest that seemed to increase as his sluggish nature became excited;
and Ludlow, on the quarter opposite to the launch, was examining the
condition of the chase by the aid of a glass. Trysail profited by the
pause, to address his followers:
"This is an expedition in boats," commenced the accurate and
circumstantial master, "made in smooth water, with little, or one may say
no wind, in the month of June, and on the coast of North America. You are
not such a set of know-nothings, men, as to suppose the launch has been
hoisted out, and two of the oldest, not to say best seamen, on the
quarter-deck of Her Majesty's ship, have gone in boats, without the
intention of doing something more than to ask the name and character of
the brig in sight. The smallest of the young gentlemen might have done
that duty, as well as the captain, or myself. It is the belief of those
who are best informed, that the stranger, who has the impudence to lie
quietly within long range of a royal cruiser, without showing his colors,
is neither more nor less than the famous 'Skimmer of the Seas;' a man
against whose seamanship I will say nothing, but who has none of the best
reputation for honesty, as relates to the Queen's revenue. No doubt you
have heard many extraordinary accounts of the exploits of this rover, some
of which seem to insinuate, that the fellow has a private understanding
with those who manage their transactions in a less religious manner than
it may be supposed is done by the bench of bishops. But what of that? You
are hearty Englishmen, who know what belongs to church and state; and,
d----e, you are not the boys to be frightened by a little witchcraft. [a
cheer] Ay, that is intelligible and reasonable language, and such as
satisfies me you understand the subject. I shall say no more, than just to
add, that Captain Ludlow desires there may be no indecent language, nor,
for that matter, any rough treatment of the people of the brigantine,
over and above the knocking on the head, and cutting of throats, that may
be necessary to take her. In this particular, you will take example by me,
who, being older, have more experience than most of you, and who, in all
reason, should better know when and where to show his manhood. Lay about
you like men, so long as the free-traders stand to their quarters--but
remember mercy, in the hour of victory! You will on no account enter the
cabins; on this head my orders are explicit, and I shall make no more of
throwing the man into the sea, who dares to transgress them, than if he
were a dead Frenchman; and, as we now clearly understand each other, and
know our duty so well, there remains no more than to do it. I have said
nothing of the prize-money, [a cheer] seeing you are men that love the
Queen and her honor, more than lucre, [a cheer]; but this much I can
safely promise, that there will be the usual division, [a cheer] and as
there is little doubt but the rogues have driven a profitable trade, why
the sum-total is likely to be no trifle." [Three hearty cheers.]
The report of a pistol from the barge, which was immediately followed by a
gun from the cruiser, whose shot came whistling between the masts of the
Water-Witch, was the signal to resort to the ordinary means of victory.
The master cheered, in his turn; and in a full, steady, and deep voice, he
gave the order to 'pull away!' At the same instant, the barge and yawl
were seen advancing towards the object of their common attack, with a
velocity that promised to bring the event to a speedy issue.
Throughout the whole of the preparations in and about the Coquette, since
the moment when the breeze failed, nothing had been seen of the crew of
the brigantine. The beautiful fabric lay rolling on the heaving and
setting waters; but no human form appeared to control her movements, or
to make the arrangements that seemed so necessary for her defence. The
sails continued hanging as they had been left by the breeze, and the hull
was floating at the will of the waves. This deep quiet was undisturbed by
the approach of the boats; and if the desperate individual, who was known
to command the free-trader, had any intentions of resistance, they had
been entirely hid from the long and anxious gaze of Ludlow. Even the
shouts, and the dashing of the oars on the water, when the boats commenced
their final advance, produced no change on the decks of the chase; though
the commander of the Coquette saw her head-yards slowly and steadily
changing their direction. Uncertain of the object of this movement, he
rose on the seat of his boat, and, waving his hat, cheered the men to
greater exertion. The barge had got within a hundred feet of the broadside
of the brigantine, when the whole of her wide folds of canvas were seen
swelling outwards. The exquisitely-ordered machinery of spars, sails, and
rigging, bowed towards the barge, as in the act of a graceful
leave-taking, and then the light hull glided ahead, leaving the boat to
plow through the empty space which it had just occupied. There needed no
second look to assure Ludlow of the inefficacy of further pursuit, since
the sea was already ruffled by the breeze which had so opportunely come to
aid the smuggler. He signed to Trysail to desist; and both stood looking,
with disappointed eyes, at the white and bubbling streak which was left by
the wake of the fugitive.
But while the Water-Witch left the boats, commanded by the captain and
master of the Queen's cruiser, behind her, she steered directly on the
course that was necessary to bring her soonest in contact with the yawl.
For a few moments, the crew of the latter believed it was their own
advance that brought them so rapidly near their object; and when the
midshipman who steered the boat discovered his error, it was only in
season to prevent the swift brigantine from passing over his little bark.
He gave the yawl a wide sheer, and called to his men to pull for their
lives. Oloff Van Staats had placed himself at the head of the boat, armed
with a banger, and with every faculty too intent on the expected attack,
to heed a danger that was scarcely intelligible to one of his habits. As
the brigantine glided past, he saw her low channels bending towards the
water, and, with a powerful effort, he leaped into them, shouting a sort
of war-cry, in Dutch. At the next instant, he threw his large frame over
the bulwarks, and disappeared on the deck of the smuggler.
When Ludlow had caused his boats to assemble on the spot which the chase
had so lately occupied, he saw that the fruitless expedition had been
attended by no other casualty than the involuntary abduction of the
Patroon of Kinderhook.